Thursday, September 1, 2011

Next Time, I'll Shove A Bomb Pop Up Your Ass

I don't commute, really, just a five minute drive (10 with school zones) to and from work.  So I'm typically home around 4:30 or 5:00 or so, depending upon how work is going.  Of course, the four fur brats have to immediately go outside, and of course, they take their time peeing and pooping, while I am subjected to something that I hate in a way I cannot begin to describe.

The fucking ice cream truck.

It's bad enough that the old bat that drives it will stop in the middle of the street and just sit there.  It's bad enough that all the rug rats come running up to the truck with their attitudes, loud obnoxious voices, and generally rude behavior.  It's bad enough that some of them stand in my yard.  (Side note here:  I wish I could train a squirrel to sit in my tree and chunk nuts at them.  Or a monkey.  Ooh, a monkey would be better because then it would probably toss shit.  Literally. That would be fun to watch.)  But what really pisses me off is the song that is playing at top volume.

It's an annoying song, and little whistle-whistle-whistles are peppered throughout.  That is exactly what I need to hear after a long day at work.

The song never changes, either.  Same thing, over and over.  I have at least five minutes of this torture daily.  Sometimes twice on the weekends.  But I could probably deal with all of that - the loud kids, the whistling, the slow-ass old woman driving at 1 mph or stopping, the cheerful song played so loudly that I can hear it inside my house.

What really galls me is that at the end of the song, before it STARTS ALL OVER AGAIN, a woman's voice says, "Hel-loooo!"

Now, at random moments during the day, I hear it in my head.  I've even started saying "Hel-loooo!" to the fur brats when I get home.  I'm either gonna lose my mind or have to take action.  I've been thinking that throwing out some of those road spikes the police use to stop high speed chases might teach her a lesson.  But if I did, she'd be stopped in front of my house and the music would never stop.  And I'd go to jail, most likely.  I really don't look good in gray - or stripes - for that matter.

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